Vixen: Redemption
by SLovingLecter
Summary: "Maybe what Severus Snape seeks, is redemption." Can he find it in the form of a young, stubborn witch, a fox familiar, or perhaps both?
1. Chapter 1

Vixen: Redemption

Disclaimer: Nothing but the plot belongs to me, the characters, magical places and world within are all a product of JK Rowling's amazing imagination, without which my childhood would have been a much emptier time. As such it all belongs to her.

**Authors Note, please read before beginning:**

Dearest Readers,

I feel the need to explain at the beginning of this story that this is not a sequel to my original fanfiction 'Vixen' even though the title may lead you to believe that it is. A sequel was much requested but I do need to stick by my original belief that that particular storyline is finished. I did however wish to create something for my loyal followers, reviewers and readers after an incident involving Vixen being reposted without permission under someone else's name. I was so genuinely shocked and yet honoured to have the fan base stand up on my behalf and help me get it removed, that it moved me to tears. You guys truly are the best kind of people and I believed you deserved something from me to say thank you.

So! Back to the original point. This isn't Vixen or a sequel but rather a whole new story using the same bare bones idea but with an entirely new plot. I could have just done a different animal form but to me this is how Hermione appears as an Animagus. I hope you enjoy it and understand that this story would never have happened if it weren't for the support and outpouring of love I received over a fanfiction I first began 7 years ago.

You don't need to read Vixen to understand this story. It stands alone.

Warmest Regards,

SLL x

Chapter One

Many things had changed in the short amount of time since The Battle of Hogwarts, but the tenacity of Hermione Granger was not one of them, as the Minister for Magic Kingsley Shacklebolt was discovering. The young witch stood rooted to the spot, practically trembling with rage as magic crackled around her.

"I understand Hermione, really I do. But we must be patient." His deep voice was soothing, he knew that. It was one of the many reasons he did so well in politics, amongst other things a cool head was definitely his most valued asset in this job. Apparently though, his attempts at calming Hermione Granger were only succeeding in riling her up more.

"It's been **four years** Minister! How much more patience would you demand I have?" Her usually perfect top-knot was rebelling before his very eyes as she batted strands of hair away from her face in agitation.

"It has been four years since The Battle, yes. But you can't expect all prejudice against magical creatures to have dropped dead with Voldemort. That's not how politics works Hermione." He watched as she took a deep breath and composed herself, her hand flying to her hair in a useless attempt to smooth it back into place.

"It's just so frustrating Minister, to work in a department where your superior doesn't have the same passion for the work as you do. How are we ever meant to advance when the very voice for these creatures doesn't believe in their equality?" He smiled at her and he wouldn't deny if asked the pride he felt in this young woman, she truly would go far within the Ministry, if only she could develop a little patience.

"Cuthbert manages the department as he sees fit Hermione, we've had this conversation. He stands by the original clause upon which the department was created. He is an old fashioned man, you need to help him see the more modern way of looking at our world. That's why I employed you after all." He steepled his fingers and looked at her in a way very much reminiscent of the late Albus Dumbledore.

"I've tried Minister! Believe me I have, but he continues to see me as a silly little girl employed with the sole purpose of bringing him his morning coffee. I know the clause, I've re-read it a thousand times trying to find a way to use it to show him how archaic it is, but he refuses to listen!" She threw her hands in the air again, but this time she held an air of defeat about her rather than defiance.

"I believe I once knew a man who used to complain about a certain young student refusing to believe anything but the words written within her text book. That student changed her outlook, why?" Kingsley had used his trump card, he didn't want Hermione to lose her passion for her job and using her old teacher as reference was a sure way to make her try harder. As if he himself were in the very room and she was still striving for his approval.

Her shoulders slumped as she looked at the ground, it seemed a familiar routine for the pair of them and she spoke as though she'd recited the sentence many times before. "Because he made me learn to look beyond the written word, to look beneath it, then disprove it and re-write it myself."

"Which is precisely what I need you to do with Cuthbert Mockridge." He opened his hands to her in conclusion and smiled at her as she sighed, nodded her head and turned toward the door.

"It isn't fair you know Kingsley, using him against me like that." Her voice was soft and held just a trace of sadness to it.

"Ah, but Miss Granger, whoever said Politics played fair?" He tried to keep the tone light but a certain sadness now lingered in the room. It seemed to follow her like a cloud nowadays whenever he was mentioned. As such it followed her from the room and Kingsley took a deep breath as the air seemed to clear and lift, like the passing of a storm.

Hermione made her way back to her office and smoothed down the rich, deep purple of her uniform blouse as she walked. The logo for The Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures was emblazoned in charcoal grey on the breast pocket and she sighed as she caught sight of it. She had hoped this job would be the platform she needed to advocate the equality of magical creatures, House Elves being at the top of her list. Instead she was shut down at every turn by Cuthbert Mockridge, an old wizard who believed steadfastly in the clause created in 1750 in the International Code of Wizarding Secrecy. So much so that it was emblazoned across the office she was now stood in, she narrowed her eyes at the paragraph which mocked her from the wall, wondering if she had ever hated a group of words as much as she did these.

"_Each wizarding governing body will be responsible for the concealment, care and control of all magical beasts, beings, and spirits dwelling within its territory's borders. Should any such creature cause harm to, or draw the notice of, the Muggle community, that nation's wizarding governing body will be subject to discipline by the International Confederation of Wizards._" —Clause 73, International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy.

What good would it do if they continued to treat other magical beings as inferior? It only created animosity and the belief that wizards thought themselves above others of magical decent. There would be no equality as long as wizards 'ruled' over other beings as though they owned them. She sighed in frustration and closed the door to her office, in here at least she was free from that damnable clause.

"Having a tough day, Mione?" She jumped and span quickly, a hand hovering over her chest in shock before a large smile broke across her face and she enveloped the man sat within her office chair in a warm hug.

"Harry Potter, what have I told you about turning up unannounced and surprising me?" Her statement was chastising but her tone was warm as she welcomed her old friend.

"How are you?" He asked, avoiding the question and holding her at arms length to look at her. "You look fantastic."

"I'm ok Harry, just still struggling with the same issue I was when I arrived at this department. How are you? How's Ginny?" She conjured a second chair and invited him to sit in it as she took her own seat at her desk.

"Ginny is fine, a little sore and she swears a beached whale has more ease of movement than she does, but I think she's just as beautiful now as she was the day I fell in love with her. Not that she believes me of course." He smiled and for a moment Hermione saw the young boy she had first met on the train with his messy hair and broken glasses. Then the man reappeared as he turned solemn, his now sleek hair and designer glasses taking away the boyish charm she remembered. "That's not why I came to see you Hermione. I need your help."

"Oh?" She asked, a feeling of dread rising in her stomach as she stood. "I have the feeling this type of conversation is going to require copious amounts of tea."

Harry knew of course that tea was just an excuse to turn away from him and keep her hands busy, to make sure he didn't see her reaction when he spoke to her. He allowed her that. "I haven't heard from him in months Hermione and I'm worried. His house is warded so thoroughly that even owls cant get passed to deliver my letters. Ever since the trial… It's almost like he _wanted_ to be found guilty. This isn't how a man acts over being acquitted Hermione, it's just not."

Her hands paused for a moment, before they continued pouring tea into two cups. Finally she turned with a composed expression of cool interest. "What is it you think I can do about that, Harry? It's his choice if he wants to seclude himself away from society, after all they've hardly done anything for him."

Harry took the offered cup of tea and sighed as he leaned back into his chair. "I know that, he's a grown man and can make his own choices. It's just that… Ginny is fit to burst soon and I wanted to move the wedding closer. I want my son born in wedlock Hermione and I know it may sound old fashioned to you but that's what I believe. I want him there Hermione, he's the only link I have to Mum."

Hermione closed her eyes for a moment at the pain in Harry's voice. He knew she would do anything for him, especially when it was about his soon to be complete family.

"Go on." She said, waiting for his supposed plan.

"I thought you could do… that thing." He raised his eyebrows at her and she had to roll her eyes at his attempt of subtlety. "The owls got past the outer wards, just not inside the house. I thought an animal would be better suited to get a bit closer and maybe just see if he's ok, you know?"

"And then what Harry? So I see him and he just wants to be left alone. Then what?" She asked, wanting to make sure her friend wasn't being naive about this.

Harry leaned forward and placed the untouched tea on her desk before bowing his head and gripping his previously sleek hair in his hands. "I just don't get it Hermione." His muffled voice said in frustration. "He was vindicated, why would he be more secluded now after the trial?"

"Have you ever thought that it isn't vindication he wanted, Harry?" Her voice was soft, as thought she'd thought about this many times before. "Maybe what Severus Snape seeks is redemption."

—

_**Please review! I hope you like it, thank you again to the readers of the original Vixen; I adore you. And to new readers, welcome! **_


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Hermione took a great gulp of the cold night air as she panted heavily, using her senses in her animagus form to guide her where her magic couldn't. She had apparated two streets over from Spinners End, wanting to be safe rather than sorry as she wasn't sure just how far Snape's apparition wards would extend. As such running through the urban streets of Manchester wasn't easy for her, there was danger everywhere. A car skidded around the corner, not caring what animal they may happen to hit as heavy base music thumped from within the vehicle. Drunk muggle youths stood on street corners smoking cigarettes and laughing loudly, finding amusement in whatever they could. Hermione had no doubt that should she get too close, she'd be next on their entertainment bill for the evening. But being cautious would take too long, so instead she had stuck to the alleyways, bushes and stationary cars and ran as fast and hard as she could until something looked familiar.

Why he insisted on living in this dreadful place she couldn't fathom.

When she finally reached Spinners End, she was exhausted. She panted and her breath clouded in front of her as she trotted down the street. This one at least was a little quieter, only one street lamp was working and it flickered on and off sporadically, like it was threatening to go out for good. That suited her though, she could see better in the dark in this form.

Her bushy tail flicked behind her as she darted behind a bin at the sound of a cat yowling loudly, then upon realising it was nothing dangerous she emerged and faced the dilapidated house on the end. She felt sadness bubble within her as she realised that whilst there were many wards upon the house, a concealment charm wasn't one of them; this was no false image created to deter visitors. He actually lived within a building that looked like a strong breeze could blow it down.

She padded forward cautiously, her previously pristine white paws were now mucky with the city dirt and she glanced down at them in irritation before refocussing her attention on the house before her. She could feel the magic practically humming around the property and as she got closer, felt layer after layer enclose her. She flinched during one particularly resistant layer, just waiting to be painfully ejected from his land, but alas it accepted her as the others had, just with a little more reluctance. She guessed that one was the ward to repel unwanted visitors.

Once she was through the wards that covered the outside of the house she let out a sigh of relief, then she realised that she had an entirely new predicament. She was too short to actually see anything, in this form at least. She couldn't exactly go transforming now, she'd hate to think what horrific curse would befall her should she suddenly be stood at his front door as Hermione Granger.

No, best to avoid any curses if possible, she didn't think Snape would only have the type of spells that caused boils or skin rashes. Rather, she'd be willing to bet they were something much more extreme.

Instead she padded around the back of the house, looking for any opening or light at a window so she might look inside. Unfortunately all of the windows were too high up and the back door was solid wood, no chance of seeing through that. Her amber gaze landed upon the large, heavy refuse bin that sat next to the back door and as luck would have it; directly under a window. Hermione licked her nose, muzzle and lips in contemplation before she crouched low, her tail arched high in the air. Then, she pounced.

Thankfully she landed with enough grace to remain relatively silent, though her balance wasn't fantastic and her claws only scratched uselessly against the plastic lid of the bin, giving her nothing to grip onto. She perched precariously on her newfound seat and craned her neck to try and see through the window, her enhanced vision caught just a glimpse of light, but not enough to see anyone within. Irritated at her limited field of vision Hermione tentatively placed one white paw on the windowsill above her head, testing its strength. Thankfully it seemed relatively stable and so up went the other paw, she used the plastic ledge to support her weight as she rose up on all fours, half of her on the bin and the other half on the windowsill.

Finally! She could see something, just a crack of light through a door which had been left ajar only slightly, leaving a slither for her to look into the room. The light was soft and flickering, meaning the room was lit by candles or a fire. Then her eyes caught movement, just above the small, spindly side table; fingers holding a glass tumbler came into view. Apparently he was drinking.

Hermione wrinkled her wet nose as she leaned closer, determined to get a better view. Suddenly her paw slipped on the condensation and grime from the unwashed windowsill beneath her paws, she tried desperately to stay upright but her claws scratched uselessly beneath her, failing to grasp ahold onto anything and she flailed as she went crashing to the ground, the bin bursting open beside her.

Suddenly there was light and lots of it. She squinted up at the door and cowered away from the large, dark form of a man that stood there observing her. Quickly her eyes darted from the rubbish strewn across his back garden to his shadow, which was cast long and thin by the artificial yellow light behind him.

She thanked her lucky stars in that moment that her animagus form was widely considered vermin, and often raided the bins in urban areas.

"Hungry, are you?" She closed her eyes at the roughness of his previously melodic voice, another thing that his master had taken from him. Still she cowered from him regardless, because even though she knew this man her animal instincts were telling her to flee, they were telling her that this human was one to fear.

He crouched down to her level, his knees sticking out as he used his hand to keep himself balanced by placing it on the concrete step in front of him. "Don't be afraid…"

She tilted her head at him, her pointed ears flicking at every single noise around them. Still she remained frozen in place, fear tingling up her spine and making her fur stand on end.

She heard him grumble in apparent irritation before he stood and span on his heel to make his way back into what she could now clearly see was the kitchen. She tilted her head again in interest, creeping forward only slightly, still remaining low on the ground as she tried to see what he was doing. When he reappeared it was with something in his hand.

Something that smelled much more appealing than the rubbish laid out in front of her.

Suddenly her stomach grumbled at her, apparently her journey here had worked up an appetite.

A scrap of chicken landed in front of her nose and she sniffed it warily whilst she eyed him with distrust. She thought she heard a soft chuckle from him, which helped alleviate the fear that had previously made her fur stand to attention. She poked out her pink tongue and licked the meat experimentally, once she had decided it contained neither poisons or contaminants she lunged forward and gulped it down quickly.

"Hm, you are hungry." He threw another piece of meat, but this time it was a little further away from her. So she stood and made the three steps toward it, demolishing it quickly. Again he threw another, and again she moved to swallow it down; her instincts to eat this freely offered cooked chicken overriding her common sense. Suddenly as a piece of chicken was held out beneath her nose she realised what he had done, and how; like a common dog she had fallen for it.

She raised her eyes to his in irritation, she was able to see him better now she was closer to him and his thin mouth quirked upward in apparent amusement at her realisation.

"You might as well eat it now, you've come all the way over here for it." He said, his voice seemingly improving the more he spoke. Whilst still gravelly and husky she could just pick up the trace of the beautiful melodic timbre it used to hold, before the snake tried ripping it from him; quite literally.

So she ate the chicken cautiously, being careful not to catch his fingers with her teeth and she tried to watch him subtly whilst he looked her over.

"You're a pretty little thing, aren't you?" She stood a little taller and shook herself in pride, plumping her auburn fur in the process. "Hm, you're definitely not from around here. Most of the foxes I see are flea bitten and half deranged with rabies."

She looked affronted at the thought and he smirked at her as he offered her another piece of chicken.

"You're clever too."

She tried to continue eating the chicken normally, realising she was acting entirely too un-foxlike and decided it was probably time she trusted in her instincts so he didn't get too suspicious. As soon as the chicken was gone he opened his hands to show her that they were empty.

"That's it, I'm afraid."

She eyed the hand that seemed to be inching towards her, fingers extended. Whilst she wanted to stay and let him pet her, let him find a companion in something, she knew she couldn't. No wild fox would allow themselves to be petted. With regret and sadness settling in her stomach her head bobbed backward, away from the hovering hand. He seemed to freeze for a moment, watching her carefully before he decided to try again.

This time she bolted.

As she ran from his view and hid beneath the shrubbery with her tail curled around her, she observed him. His hand dropped from mid air and landed upon his knee. He seemed to bow his head for a moment, before he sighed, shook his head and stood. His gaze roamed the garden once more, then he turned away and softly closed the back door.

A lone tear tracked its way down her white muzzle as she laid there for hours until the lights were extinguished, staying with him even though he couldn't know she had.

_**I'd love it if someone would make a cover art for this fanfiction, unfortunately my creativity doesn't extend to digital art but i'd love one for this. Please message me if you'd like to make one!**_

_**Don't forget to review and my thanks go to those that have reviewed so far. A small review goes a long way in keeping my muse alive. **_


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: A wonderful artist has completed an artwork for Vixen: Redemption in the following link. Please go and visit and give her some love(Remove spaces) ****ronices****. deviantart****. com ****/art/**** Snapes-Encounter- ****527934317**

**And also a truly beautiful banner by another very talented artist! I wish ff allowed banners to be added to stories! Thank you for spending your time creating this! (Remove spaces.) ****hm-****roberts . ****deviantart . ****com ****/art/**** Vixen-Redemption-Banner ****\- 526688809**

Chapter Three

"So… How did it go?" Harry asked tentatively, his black hair back in its normal messy state now that it was free of the wax which usually subdued it enough to look professional for the ministry.

She narrowed her eyes at him and glared as she handed him a mug of tea and joined him on her worn ash brown sofa, propping one of the navy blue pillows behind her and crossing her legs.

"Ah, ok… I'm guessing that means it didn't go well?" He cringed slightly as he awaited her answer.

"Well observed Harry, I see you're as astute as you ever were." She said dryly, taking a sip of her coffee and looking at his guilty expression over the top of her mug.

"What happened?" He asked, and so she told him. He cringed in all the right places, and looked at her with sorrowful eyes once she reached the end. His sigh was heavy as he ran his hands through his messy black hair before he propped his chin on his hand and met her gaze.

"I'm sorry for putting you in that situation Hermione, but I needed to know he was ok. Why didn't you speak to him?"

"Oh yes Harry because he would have reacted fantastically to me transforming in his back garden. 'Oh hello there Professor, sorry just to drop in but Harry requested that I stalk you because you weren't answering his owls. By the way, do you fancy coming to a wedding?'" She reeled off sarcastically and he flinched at her tone.

"I suppose you're right, Hermione. Thank you for checking anyway." He sighed and took a sip of his tea. She couldn't help but feel a little sorry for Harry, all he had done since discovering the truth was try to atone for the mistake he had made in judging Snape's character. It wasn't something he should have to atone for in Hermione's opinion; the man had crafted his persona to perfection, no one was _supposed_ to see through it. And they had only been children after all, a villain is a villain to a child, they see good and evil so simply that it's hard for them to fathom the true depth of the matter. How were they to know a man so easily painted as evil truly fought for the light, and the man they believed to be a hero turned out to have his fair share of darkness within him?

"All you can do is keep trying Harry. Maybe one day your owls will drive him so mad he'll turn up at your office, wand drawn and robes billowing." She said trying to lighten the oppressive mood that had fallen over them.

Harry's mouth quirked upward in a smile. "You have no idea how happy it would make me if he did, i'd even take whatever spells he had to throw at me without trying to defend myself."

"Probably not the best idea Harry, he is the most powerful wizard alive." She stated seriously, knowing full well just how much damage Snape could do if he chose to.

"Yeah, I know. And to think all of that talent just sitting there, all that potential…"

"I imagine he's had enough of fighting other peoples battles." She reminded him gently. Trying to get the notion of he and Snape side by side fighting crime, out of his head for what felt like the thousandth time.

"Yeah you're right Mione, anyway I'd better get back to Ginny. Thanks again and i'm sorry to have put you in that situation." Her best friend stood and embraced her with one arm, she hugged him back feeling a little heaviness in her chest.

"Anything for the chosen one." She said, but it fell flat. They both tried to smile and laugh but in reality the war had taken so much from all of them, they had lost so many and Harry still insisted on blaming himself.

"See you later." He said as he waved and stepped into the floo, the fireplace flared green and he was gone.

Hermione sat there for a moment fiddling with the handle to her cup as her mind played with an idea. It was a stupid, absolutely insane, completely ridiculous idea. But after years of following the boys and their ridiculous plans it was about time she followed her own.

Suddenly, seemingly making up her mind, she stood and placed her still lukewarm tea on the side. Then she took a deep breath and span on the spot, disappearing with a loud and echoing crack.

Spinners End seemed so remarkably different in the daytime, even more so in her fox form with everything being so much larger than her. The dilapidated house looked even more pathetic in the daylight than it did at night, at least under the cover of darkness the imperfections were somewhat disguised. The harsh rays of sunlight showed no forgiveness as they highlighted every crumbling brick and cracked roof tile, every moulding windowsill and cracked window pane. She felt rather sorry for the poor building. She imagined Snape's neighbours didn't share her sympathy, the place was an eyesore and if she had to look at it every day she supposed it would begin to wear on her too.

Thankfully his house was the last and so beyond that stretched woodland and fields, plenty of places she could keep cover whilst she watched. Though Merlin knows why she was actually here, she didn't have a clue and kept trying to ignore the annoying voice in the back of her skull which insisted on trying to analyse everything.

Hermione lithely wove in and out of the bushes on her white paws until she reached the back of the house. She knew watching the front was futile, Snape preferred privacy. Whilst the day wasn't exactly warm enough for gardening, the sun was shining and the flowers were beginning to lift as winter turned into spring. Therefore she was stunned to a total halt mid-step when she saw the figure crouched amongst the long grass, apparently fiddling with something she wasn't quite able to see. She circled, being careful to still remain hidden as she sidled past the dilapidated fence that enclosed his property.

He was clothed in the garb she was so used to seeing him in as a child and young adult and it made her almost nostalgic, to see the long sleeves and many buttons with the strong, pale hands working diligently at his task. Momentarily an image flashed before her eyes and they were back in the potions classroom.

He appeared to be putting together some kind of feeder and her amber eyes narrowed as she looked at the large plastic bag next to him, her whiskers twitched slightly as she sniffed and her heart lurched within her chest.

He was setting up a feeder and in the bag next to him were nuts and raisins. Hermione knew that this particular mix was widely considered as the best way to keep foxes in your garden for the longest amount of time, as the food was small and more difficult to gather. She remembered her mother doing the same thing for the foxes that their neighbours had considered vermin, that had been when Hermione had first felt a kindred spirit and love for what she thought were truly beautiful animals.

Her chest ached and she bowed her furry head, her pointed ears laying back against her skull in sorrow. The poor man. How lonely was he that he wished to further entice wildlife into his garden for some interaction?

She couldn't deny him that one, small happiness. She would come back tonight and let him see her eating from the bowl. After all if Snape wouldn't let her befriend him in human form, perhaps he would in fox form.

As the sun had begun falling lower in the sky Hermione had crept from her hiding spot and approached the feeder. Her bushy tail curled about her petite form as she bent her head to sniff the bowl before her, the sweet and savoury smells wafted upward and settled on her tongue making her mouth water. Using her nose she nudged the bowls contents, giving the appearance of consuming the treats before her. Once she felt she had continued the charade for long enough she stretched out, tail flicking behind her and laid her tummy against the dew covered grass. It felt wonderful upon her skin and giving into the primal urge within her, she rolled happily, dampening her fur in the wet grass.

Within the house, concealed behind dirt smeared windows and heavy, dank curtains, stood Severus Snape. He observed the fox closely as it frolicked in his back garden, its honey-red fur had been darkened by the moisture, though its bushiness had not diminished at all. A small smirk quirked the corner of his mouth as he considered how like her animagus form his former student was, bushy hair and all. Of course he knew she believed that she had tricked him, fooled him into believing she was a mere urban fox. He snorted momentarily in bemusement, after Black's escape from Azkaban and Rita Skeeter's numerous 'Breaking News' stories, animagus detection charms were among the first he placed upon his property.

Again he took a moment to wonder how stupid the girl truly believed him to be, or perhaps it was naive hope on her part, he had after all ignored her many pleas for contact after the war had ended and his trial had finished. He didn't understand why she continued to persist, he was just her old teacher. Surely Miss Granger hadn't fallen prey to hero worship? No… She had grown up with The Boy Who Lived and was considered a hero herself for her efforts in the war.

Which was precisely why he had gone along with her little game for the time being, to see how long she could keep it up and if she ever revealed what, exactly it was she wanted. He was curious about her motives, that much he would admit to himself.

One thing he certainly wouldn't admit was that it warmed his cold, deadened heart somewhat to have her come to him and seek him out again. Or that he found amusement in watching her roll around on his lawn like a common canine, he would be sure to remind her of her idiotic behaviour when he did eventually confront her.

He steadfastly ignored the voice in his head that suggested perhaps as he hadn't already confronted her and demanded she leave, he didn't really want her to.

**AN: I will resort to begging for reviews as I've had half of this chapter sitting, waiting to be finished for WEEKS and it drove me to insanity I tell you! I had to force my muse into action and that's never a good thing, so please help me keep it going and leave a review behind, my humble thanks. **


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